Warming Up to Him
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: Or not. Just a few more hours. Just a few...12 more...hours… of Hermione stuck in a truck with an attractive, obnoxious stranger. Written for Roll-A-Drabble on Hermione's Haven with the Trope: Huddling for Warmth. Will have another chapter at some point!


Note: Modern!AU, Trope: Huddling for Warmth

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Hermione could see her breath from the cold air, and she did not like it one bit. In fact, she didn't like the situation she was in at all.

She could have been at home, enjoying a decent book near her dim fireplace. She could have been taking a bubble bath with a glass of wine by her side and classical music playing in the distance. _She could have been in any warm place at all_.

Instead, she was shivering next to a stranger in the middle of a blizzard.

Harry had invited her to stay at his place with Ginny due to the impending weather, and of course she accepted. She'd packed everything she thought she needed, but her time management was a little behind schedule, so maneuvering on the already road in her less than stellar vehicle was irksome.

In a bitter cliche fashion, Hermione's car broke down. She was a scholar by all means, not a mechanic! Calling Ronald would have been the ideal option, except he wasn't picking up his phone, and the last time Harry had heard from him, he was staying warm at Lavender's apartment.

She had to deck it out on foot in her clothes, clutching herself while the storm had gotten worse. A station was supposed to be close by.

Her luck was against her as it was found out that the station was closed and there was no way for her to break inside.

As a truck pulled up, Hermione thought her luck was changing. The driver nearly left her breathless with his long, blond hair and toned muscles accentuated from his jacket. He said his name was Thorfinn, and Hermione could gather that it fit him perfectly.

It was against her better judgement, getting in the truck with a stranger, but she was out of options.

To make matters worse, he looked better when he didn't open his mouth. And the snow caved the road so hard that they were trapped on the highway until it was cleared the next day, which brought Hermione to the position she's in now.

"You know, sweetheart, you'd be better off warm over here until this gets cleared up," he said. "I won't bite unless you ask me to."

Hermione had a look of disgust at his comment. "No thanks," she quipped. "I'd rather sit in the snow before huddling into you."

Thorfinn gestured at the door, goading her with the shine in his blue eyes. "By all means, pet, go for it."

The brunette sniffed, turning her nose up in the air. The heater in the truck had long since turned off since the truck was out of gas, so Hermione's only source for warmth was her clothes. Her _only _source.

"I'll stay warm where I am," she replied, not adding in the fact that she conceded on her empty threat too soon. She was getting cold for Christ's sake; her mind wasn't entirely as sharp as she'd want it to be.

"You can't it both ways, pet," Thorfinn said, his hand on the steering wheel as his body was twisted in her direction. "Either you want out or you want warmth. Can't expect me to get out of this truck and warm you out in all of that."

Hermione looked out the spot in the window that wasn't covered in frost and snow, knowing if she tried opening the door she'd freeze them both. While Thorfinn could have as much snow shoved up his arse, Hermione could not.

Begrudgingly, Hermione scooted closer to Thorfinn, wishing she could slap the smug smirk off his face. She hated to admit it, but the closer she'd gotten, the warmer she began to feel.

She refused to believe it was from anything other than body heat.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her closer against the warm fabric of his jacket. It was surprising that he wasn't as cold as she was; she noted he hadn't shaken at all. Her body reacted naturally by tucking herself into his side.

His deep chuckle vibrated on her cheek. "I knew you'd warm up to me, pet."

Hermione slapped his stomach. Just a few more hours. Just a few...12 more...hours…

She wasn't sure if she'd make it.

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Word Count: 710


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